


Stained Glass

by PokehTurtle, snapfreeze



Category: RWBY
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Tattoo Parlor, Drama & Romance, F/F, Found Family, Gratuitous homosexuality, Various Cameos - Freeform, stab your love needle into me
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-01-18
Updated: 2019-02-26
Packaged: 2019-10-12 08:54:58
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 12,860
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17464406
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PokehTurtle/pseuds/PokehTurtle, https://archiveofourown.org/users/snapfreeze/pseuds/snapfreeze
Summary: For some, tattoos can be a part of the healing process. Yang and Ruby are owners of the hole-in-the-wall tattoo and piercing parlour the Rose Dragon, when a mysterious young woman enters, asking about a stomach tattoo.[Tattoo AU]





	1. Blank Canvas

Blake double checked, triple checked the text she had received from Ilia, eyes pointlessly gleaning over the black letters as though further readings would clarify the address more, even though she just knew she was stalling. She stood in front of old brick buildings built with failing mortar, the very sight implying that the worn rows were settling into the Earth. Vale was an old city with a historic downtown; an eclectic collection of high end tech companies in the nicer buildings and old pubs and hole in the walls in the less desirable locations. It was an increasingly bizarre split between the rich and poor; an open exercise in gentrification.

To her left was an old, very conservative church, complete with bells and a judgemental billboard that told any passersby that they would be going to hell. Next to it, rather ironically, was the tattoo and piercing parlour, the _Rose Dragon._ The shop had a beautiful sign up front; a dragon clutching a rose all decked out in neon, electrified gas beckoning the rebels and outcasts of society.

Blake sighed and watched her breath form into a small cloud before her. It was cold out and snowing. Cars drove on the crowded cross street behind her and sprayed dirty, oil soaked snow that looked more like mud onto the edges of the sidewalk, dangerously close to her leather boots.

Considering all those factors, there was no good reason for Blake to just be _standing_ outside the tattoo parlour, hands buried in the pockets of her purple pea coat and nose turning redder than the top light silencing traffic behind her. No good reason other than that she was nervous as hell. Her stomach stewed and boiled and anxiety threatened like an approaching army.

She had learned long ago to bite the bullet, rip off the band-aid. Ilia had recommended this place and Blake trusted her friend. For the most part. A goofy, stereotypical bell rang when Blake pushed the old door open. She hadn’t been able to see inside before, as the cold had fogged up the old windows and made the glass opaque.

Her ears twitched against her own wishes at the loud music inside the parlour, though the people inside didn’t seem to mind. A girl with black hair tipped red bobbed her head gently to the aggressive beat of guitars and drums furiously playing a high tempo metal song, her hands steady and focused as she drew an intricate pattern on a large sheet of paper. Tattoos snaked up all the way to her neck, black and red, a story told on her skin in a foreign, geometric language.

“Hi.”

Blake’s muscles jumped in her own body, caught off guard by the sudden welcome. A rather… short woman stood before her, a row of piercings symmetrically placed down her face, snow white hair cascading down her back like an avalanche. Her gaze moved glacially around Blake, taking in her defensive form, how her hands were stuffed a little too tightly into her pockets and shoulders raised a little too high.  

“Um, hi, I need a tattoo?” Blake’s question came off less amicably than she intended. Deadpan.

“Do you have an appointment?” The woman’s posture said, ‘I have better things to do’.

“No.” Blake responded shortly, narrowing her eyes. She had little patience for rude assholes.

“Weiss, be nice!” Blake’s eyes trailed over to the artist she had first seen, scooting over to the front desk in her wheeled chair. “Hehe, nice Weiss.”

“Ugh.” The rude woman was replaced with the shockingly cheerful girl.

“Hi, I’m Ruby! I’m one of the owners here.” The girl had striking silver eyes that somehow complimented the patterns stretched across most of her body. Her smile was bright, genuine, and put Blake off her guard more than she cared to be.

“I’m Blake.” Blake said her name almost as more of a question. So far this whole situation had proven to be a rather odd customer service experience. Were all tattoo parlours like this?

“You said you needed a tattoo right? We can definitely help you with that!” Ruby grabbed a clipboard that lay on the desk, bringing up some sort of sign up sheet.

“Do you have an idea of what you want, or no idea where to start?” Ruby tilted her head, curious, like a puppy.

“Um. Flowers.” _Very eloquent, Blake._

“Flowers is a _great_ place to start,” Ruby beamed, “we have a specialist in colour work and flowers, Ren, he’s--”

Blake flinched, unintentionally. “I’d… prefer to not be tattooed by a man. Sorry.”

“Of course.” Ruby nodded sagely, ripping off some paper from a stack and handing Blake a board and a pencil. “Just fill that in as best you can, and if you have any questions just shout. You’re welcome to use chosen names and pronouns; you don’t have to use your legal name. When you’re done, I’ll make a note of no men. Take a seat!”

Ruby rolled away, wheels easily sliding across the faux wooden floor, quietly saying ‘nyoom’ to herself and leaving Blake to her awkwardness. To her right were some bean bags and a long L shaped leather sofa. It was a cozy, friendly sight, which seemed to be discordant with the massive amount of swearing in the rap song currently playing.

A noticeable thrum buzzed past the hip hop, a sound akin to insect wings beating furiously. Her amber eyes darted over past Ruby to a far table near the other end of the shop, where a heavily tattooed blond haired woman was apparently working on someone. The sound made Blake somewhat nervous. There was something strange about the way it started and stopped, like an artificial heartbeat.

She opted to plop down on the couch instead of the bean bags.

The sign up sheet was easy enough to start with: name, date of birth, residence, any known allergies, any medication, but the next few questions unsettled Blake.

 _Are you pregnant?_ Thankfully not.

_If tattooing over scar tissue, how old is the wound, and what caused the injury?_

“Not old enough, and a mistake.” Blake mumbled to herself, scratching something down. She wondered idly if it hurt more to get tattooed over scars than it did regular skin. Probably. She’d avoided checking in case it caused her to get cold feet. This was something she _needed_. Every time she looked in the mirror she felt sick, felt a ship sinking inside her, pulled down by an anchor.

_Anything else we should know?_

Well, she’d already told Ruby she didn’t want a male tattoo artist. It probably seemed silly to her, probably made it seem like Blake was too picky or weird, despite the fact that Ruby seemed to be understanding. Taking people at face value was never easy.

“Alright, all done Coco!” The humming stopped, replaced by a woman’s voice. Blake tilted her gaze up to look at the blond tattoo artist, who was helping another girl off her work table.

“It looks amazing Yang. You sure you haven’t done a gatling gun before?” The other woman, placed a chic looking beret on top of her head, flipping out a pair of expensive looking sunglasses with a practiced, single motion.

“Nope.” The blond popped the ‘p’ loudly, showing a blinding set of teeth that reminded Blake of the sun reflecting off snow. “Coco, you sure have some eclectic tastes for a model.”

“Hey, you’re welcome for showing off your work kiddo.” ‘Coco’ slid her sunglasses on while ‘Yang’ put what looked like plastic wrap on the model’s back. “Glad it’s over with though. I’ll never understand how you and Ruby had the patience to sit still for all of your tattoos.”

As much as Blake wanted to continue eavesdropping, her attention was drawn to the sound of plastic wheels zooming across the floor, Ruby scooting back over to her on the couch.

“All done? I can go ahead and take that from you if you’d like.”

Ruby smiled at her, looking far too cheerful.

“Um, yeah. Here you go.”

Her silver eyes darted back and forth, left to right, as she read Blake’s information.

“Oh, you’re getting it over a scar!”

Blake’s eyes darted quickly, imperceptibly, down before responding. “Yeah. Is that a problem…?”

“Not at all! My sister’s actually done a lot of work over scars before, and she’s a girl! Though you probably gathered that. Here, I’ll grab her portfolio really quick for you. She’s just ringing a customer out.”

The girl rolled away once again, having way too much fun scooting around the shop. She grabbed a binder off the blond’s table before racing back to Blake.

“Yaaang, you’ve probably got a maybe customer!”

“Alright, alright, one second Ruby.” Yang smiled at her sister, before taking a quick look at Blake. Her eyes looked like a field of lavender, and they disappeared far too quickly, accompanied by what Blake might have called a blush.

Blake watched her as she finished charging Coco, watched her as she escorted her out of the shop with a ‘see you soon’. Her body was marked with colorful, saturated tattoos of dragons and Chinese characters Blake couldn’t hope to read. An aggressive, golden dragon held its claws around her bicep, cradling the girl’s pronounced muscles, an ancient beast guarding a precious treasure.

Her hair was a matched golden tone, tied up in a messy ponytail that allowed just enough curls to contour the angles of her face.

In all the time she was staring at her, Blake had only just noticed that Yang had a prosthetic attached at the elbow of her right arm. Above the not-so-obvious prosthetic, a rough dotted line with the words ‘CUT HERE’.

 _She has a sense of humor at least._ Blake thought as her eyes remained trained on Yang, simply watching. Something pulled at her memory, something indistinct and vivid and blurred with red.

“Um, Blake? I’ve got that portfolio here.”

“Huh? Oh, I-I’m sorry.” Blake sheepishly took the binder from Ruby’s hands, cautiously opening it to the first page. The binder contained a melange of art, from small, comic punk flash art pieces to full scale Chinese style work. Blake wondered how someone got ink to look so beautiful on someone’s skin, like the sky was seeping into flesh, and all the colors that came with it. Ilia’s recommendation seemed to check out.

“Like what you see?” She recognized Yang’s voice coming from above her, arms crossed and a grin plastered across her face as though the double entendre had been even a bit subtle.

“They’re… impressive.” Blake responded.

“Oh, thank you! My work is too.” A not so subtle wink followed.

“Yang!” Ruby elbowed Yang roughly in the stomach. Yang rustled Ruby’s hair, before shunting her away with her leg. Pathetically, Ruby cried out ‘ _nooooooo_ ’ as she rolled away.

“Um.” Blake didn't know what to say. Was this girl flirting with her?

Yang plopped down next to her, casual as could be, and asked: “am I going to be your first?”

“ _Excuse me?_ ” Blake choked.

“First _tattoo_.” Yang clarified quickly, albeit with a bit of a blush.

“Yeah.” She fiddled with the corner of the portfolio, rubbing the page between her fingers. “It's necessary though.”

“Any reason is a good reason for a tattoo, but I'm biased.” Yang shrugged and crossed her legs.

Ruby rolled back over, depositing a heavily worn sketchbook from Yang’s desk and Blake's sign up sheet. Blake sat there awkwardly, as if Yang was somehow reading her entire life through the paper.

“Over a scar, preferably no men?” Yang’s eyes didn’t leave the sheet as she repeated what Blake had written down. There wasn’t any judgement in Yang’s voice, but she still felt uncomfortable, like she was on trial.

All Blake gave was a nod for an answer.

“Can I ask about the scar?” Yang raised her head. “You don't have to show me right now if you're not comfortable, but more information helps me do my job better. You don't have to go into details either if you don't want to, just location and the type of scarring.”

Unconsciously, Blake tightened her arms around her stomach.

“I, um. It's a… puncture wound. Near my hip.” Her abdomen seared with the memory of a blade.

“How old is it?”

“A year.

“Do you get any pain if you press down on it?”

“No.”

“Okay, good.” A comforting smile from Yang was given, but when she leaned over to flip the portfolio through, Blake abruptly leaned away in an unexpected motion. Unease radiated off her.

Yang paused for a hot second, retracting her arm away. New scenario, new tactics. She smiled softly and simply pointed at the portfolio instead.

“I want to show you some photos of my work that I did over scar tissue. Can you go to page six, please?”

Blake mentally punched herself. Yang was being so kind, but the moment she reached over her fight or flight sense kicked in. It was like she had no control over her own body. Her anxiety dominated the situation.

 _God_ , Yang probably thought she was some kind of freak. Maybe she was. Blake quickly turned to the appropriate page.

“I do a lot of tattooing over scars.” Yang began, gently rubbing her own arm, at the base where it connected to the prosthetic. “Some people want to tell a story, other people want to cover it up with something more beautiful. Whatever the reason, I can do it.”

Her smile looked an awful lot like the sun.

“We may have to adjust the design to accommodate the scar, but whether you want it covered or emphasized, it can be done.”

Blake thought Yang’s work was beautiful and colorful. Surgery scars covered with complex designs, injuries both accidental and purposeful being given new light through ink. It reminded her of stained glass; something that started as loose pieces, puzzled together into art.

She was honestly mesmerised. The shop suddenly felt more like a museum. Yang looked like a delinquent with all her tattoos, piercing hanging over her lip, but her work seemed to suggest otherwise.

“So, what design are you thinking about?” Yang snapped Blake out of her reverie.

“I… would like some belladonna lillies.” Blake blushed slightly, embarrassed by her own request.

“Your family's surname?” Yang asked, looking down at Blake's sign up sheet.

“Yes. Maybe the flowers coming out of a skull?” Blake backtracked immediately. “That sounds stupid. I'm sorry.”

“No! There's no such thing as a stupid idea for a tattoo. Especially since it’s your body, your choice, your taste. By the way…”

Yang pointed over to her table. There was a half empty cup of coffee on top of her tool case, which was coated in stickers of bands and rebellious brands.

“I can get a curtain set up if you want some privacy.”

“That… might be nice.” Blake watched as yang pulled a small notebook out of her back pocket, jotting down a few lines, presumably about her. “Wait, sorry, are we doing this today?”

Yang smiled at her in that stupid disarming way. A little too friendly somehow.  “Oh, no, no, no, I’ve got to make some sketches first. We’ll get you scheduled in for your first session in about a week. That sound good?”

Blake swallowed. A week suddenly seemed like a very long time. “Yeah, that’s fine.”

“If you want to,” Yang began, “We can meet a little before then too so we can go over whatever sketches I come up with. It’s your body; I always wanna make sure we’re both happy with what goes on there. I’d like to see the scar before the actual day of too.”

Her abdomen pulsed and she shivered, a motion that Yang didn’t miss, though Blake certainly wished she had. “Right. I understand.”

Yang’s eyes looked calm and drew Blake in, despite the discordant metal blaring that didn’t match the artist’s tone at all, like they were suddenly in a field of flowers. “Normally we’d have you put down a security deposit today but… it’s okay if you change your mind come next week. I can tell this is really important to you, but don’t feel like you can’t back out okay?”

“No, it’s okay,” Blake responded a little too quickly. “Don’t make an exception for me. I want-”

She paused, choked. Yang’s expression fell.

“I need to get this done.”

Yang blinked and smiled, a promise. “I’ll come up with something you’ll really love.”

She turned around and her blond hair flew over her shoulder, nearly smacking Blake in the face. “Weiiiiissss! Can you help Blake here get scheduled for next week?”

 

\--------

 

“Really, Yang?”

Yang locked eyes with the source of the irritated voice; Weiss, arms crossed and foot tapping impatiently, eyes narrowed like a teacher about to scold a child.

“‘Really’ what?” Yang mockingly repeated as she continued doodle in her sketch book. Ruby snickered loudly.

“That girl!” Weiss jabbed a finger at the door with a hand on her hip. “Yang I swear sometimes!”

“You mean, Blaaake?” Ruby singsonged, cackling and rolling over to the two. Yang was thankful no one else was in the shop right now, especially Nora. She’d really never hear the end of it if she had been.

“No, I mean the _customer_ Yang practically grew heart eyes for.” Weiss accused.

Yang groaned and her head hit the table with a thunk that wasn’t nearly loud enough to drown out Weiss’s chiding.

“Okay, so I thought she was cute. I don’t think that’s grounds for a trial.” Yang rolled her head on the table so she could look at Weiss and Ruby, pouting slightly.

“Yang, it’s a problem if you’re tattooing her!” Weiss threw her arms up. “And you can’t just waive the security deposit for a pretty face!”

“It wasn’t _because_ she was pretty Weiss. Didn’t you see how nervous she was? I was just being-”

“ _Nice?_ ” Ruby cut in, poking her head over her sister’s desk. “Just kidding. You’re right, she did seem really nervous.”

“Nervousness doesn’t get you special treatment.” Weiss huffed, even though her tone didn’t quite match her words. Yang could tell she was trying to put on a tough face.

“Well she did end up paying so what’s the problem?” Yang pointed out.

“It’s the principle of the thing!”

“Principles schminciples,” muttered Yang, drawing a little more aggressively now. Arguing with Weiss was a torpid affair. “Everyone’s fine when Ren tattoos Nora, or if Weiss pierces a _cute girl_ \--”

“Hey!”

“Or when Ruby does things out of the goodness of her heart, but the moment _I_ do things you’re all up my ass about it. She paid, she’s cute, we’re probably doing something good for her.” Yang growled, not concealing venom.

“ _Yang_.”

“ **Weiss**.”

Ruby rolled in between them now, outstretching her hands. “Okay, things are getting heated. Yes, Weiss, we have to be professional and safe, but we can also do nice things for women who need it. We’re a working team, and I don’t like it when we argue. Let’s hug it out!”

Weiss rolled her eyes. Yang just smiled slightly, knowing this was prime Ruby action. Climbing out of her space, she wrapped Ruby into a hug, purposefully yanking Weiss into the fray.

Muffled, in between the bodies, Ruby said: “I love you guys.”


	2. Initial Sketch

The longer winter lingered the more Blake wanted to never, _ever,_ leave the warm safety of her bed. She groaned and threw the purple sheets off of her, only convinced she needed to get up because of the incessant ringing of her alarm. She silenced her phone in the kitchen and put a kettle on the stove with the exhausted, half dead motions of a zombie. The windows were fogged up and left a smattering of condensation on Blake’s hand as she wiped it across the glass, revealing the gentle snowfall outside.

It was warm inside the house, but Blake hadn’t really _felt_ warm in a long time. Her friends noticed; her parents noticed, and they all knew why. She convinced herself that getting tattooed would help. The thought helped her get out of bed in the morning.

Her parents’ house was in an upscale gated community, though the house itself was more modest, decorated with mementos and more cat statues than was probably healthy. A sticky note on the fridge in her mother’s handwriting mentioned that her parents had already left for their law practice that day. Justice never slept evidently. The two attorneys had been swamped with work lately, office looking more like a paper tornado than anything else; Vale had seen a rise in hate crimes in the past year and with it, a rise in litigations and lawsuits.

Blake sighed and finished making her tea as the kettle started to scream, shattering the peaceful quiet of the empty kitchen. She was alone. Maybe Sun and Illia would want to hang out later. She’d been out of work since moving back in with her parents and the day to day tedium of being jobless was starting to get to her.

Her phone buzzed on the table, almost shaking itself off the edge before Blake saved it with a deft motion.

_Unknown:_

_Hey this is Yang from the Rose Dragon! If this isn’t Blake then uh, whoops_

Blake’s eyebrows arched quizzically. It had been a few days since she had visited the tattoo parlor, though the memory of the blond, cheerful artist had been simmering in her thoughts. Somehow she had wormed her way into her psyche and made a home with that stupid, beautiful smile. Beautiful? Where had that come from?

Yang was almost too friendly, too forward, too confident. It was blinding, but not altogether unpleasant; like something was curbing her from burning too brightly. She was mysterious and altogether too _beautiful._

_You:_

_This is Blake._

She texted back quickly, ending that train of thought.

Hopefully she didn’t come across as curt. Blake had never been eloquent over text message, especially not with people she had just met, people she didn’t fully trust yet. She put her phone down on the counter when she heard a rush of thunks, followed by a yell for a greeting and something furry brushing up against her legs. Looking down, she saw two yellow eyes staring back at her.

“Hey, Panther.”

The cat let out a pleased purr and lept into her lap, circling once, twice, thrice, before making a home on Blake’s legs, taking comfort in sapping Blake’s body heat. Her parents’ cat had been a great source of comfort for her since moving back home, providing her with unconditional snuggles and love.

Panther grunted with disapproval when Blake’s phone buzzed again a few moments later, upset that she was no longer the center of attention.

“Calm down you little weirdo.” Blake chuckled, stroking Panther behind the ear before opening the text.

_Yang:_

_Great! I don’t know what you’re up to today but I have some sketches I’m feeling pretty good about! If you want we should meet up for coffee and we can talk about the next steps._

_Also, unrelated, because we are professionals: Ruby got her finger stuck in a hole in her desk._

A chime from her phone informed Blake that she had received a photo, one of the redhead girl from the shop grimacing as she attempted to pull out her forefinger from aforementioned hole. It looked ridiculous, seeing such a heavily tattooed girl struggle with something a third grader would worry about. A laugh slipped out of her mouth.

Was it normal for someone you just met to send you pictures of their sister’s unfortunate mishaps?

_You:_

_I’m free all day._

Another simple, no nonsense text.

_Yang:_

_Great! You know Scarletina’s? Wanna meet there around 2?_

_You:_

_Okay. I’ll meet you there, Yang._

The text coincided with the bubbling up of anxiety in the pit of her gut. Going outside meant having to wrestle with the chance of seeing _him_ again, and having to put faith in this stranger that she wouldn't harm her. She finished her cup of tea and steeled her resolve.

Scarletina’s was a cute little coffee shop, not too far from The Rose Dragon, frequented by hipsters and college students with enough expendable income to buy fancy coffee. Blake changed out of her pajamas and threw on her pea coat and a scarf, purple blouse underneath and black pants to match her boots. Nothing too fancy.

The wind made her cheeks red and the snow got stuck in her long hair. She passed by people on the road, everyone with their heads down to avoid the wind and to avoid eye contact as city folk always did. Her eyes darted around and catalogued every face, man, woman, or child.

Scarletina’s was crowded and the aroma of espresso was borderline overwhelming. The tables and barstools were full of people wrapped up in winter clothing, almost like mummies, finding warmth in steaming cups.

“Blake, over here!” Yang’s voice somewhat loudly rang out through the shop. She turned to see Yang waving and smiling goofily at her, drawing the attention of some of the customers. Blake’s face was flush with embarrassment as she approached Yang’s table.

“Did you have to make such a racket?” Blake said, tone far from kind.

Yang’s eyes darted away sheepishly. “Ehehe, my bad.”

“‘It’s-“ Blake felt her heart sink at the guilt that steered the blond’s face. “‘It’s fine I just, don’t like drawing attention to myself.”

Yang nodded as though she understood. “It won’t happen again.”

She pulled out a sketchbook from a burlap tote bag, proudly flipping to a page littered with dozens of variations on the same sketch; belladonna lilies and feline skulls. Yang smiled at her, a softer look than some of the blinding expressions she had shown previously.

“You want something to drink? I’ll go get it while you start to look these over if you’d like.”

“Oh, um, just some earl grey would be nice.” Blake was surprised at the offer, but she wouldn’t say no to a free drink.

“Tea girl huh? I’ll be right back!” Yang hopped out of her seat and headed over to the counter, where it looked like she was flirting with the barista if the other girl’s embarrassed look was anything to go by.

Blake couldn’t exactly blame her. Yang _was_ quite the looker. Muscled, well endowed, and if one lent towards such things, a punk rock goddess. She was wearing a tank top that left her tattoos in full view, dragging from her collar bone dangerously close to her chest. Her sleeves looked as amazing as they had when Blake first saw them. She could have sworn Yang had a back tattoo as well, but her cascading hair blocked any good look at it.

That seemed odd to Blake. Yang clearly had no problem showing off her other tattoos; why get one where no one could see it?

She let her eyes catalogue every sketch Yang had drawn; some were more aggressive than others, with jagged lines and more detailed skulls, more black than color, while some focused more on the flowers. One in particular drew her attention; a cat skull, with the lilies poking through the eye sockets and the back, some fully grown, some just beginning to bud, hunting for sunlight. She drew a finger over it, feeling the different ripples in the paper and graphite.

Yang would probably want to discuss other options, but that was the one she wanted.

“I really like how that one turned out.” Yang mentioned as she paced Blake’s tea in front of her, practically startling the girl out of her seat.

“I like it.” Blake finally said after taking a deep breath.

“Thank you. I do too.”

“You already said that.” Blake replied with an amused smile, a crooked lip.

“Oh!” She was caught off guard for a second, then shrugged, taking her seat next to Blake again. “Then I double like it. Flawless logic.”

Yang was confident and cocky, but not enough to step into the realm of smarm. It was… startling. Refreshing, but it wasn't enough to keep Blake's guard down.

“So…” Yang started, as the lull in conversation drew on for a bit too long. “Is that design the one?”

“You aren't gonna pester me about the other designs?”

“Nah. Like I said, your body, your tastes, your choice. The others I can put in my portfolio, and reference if I'm struggling to nail a design down. If you're feeling that one, go for it.”

Blake let out a low tone, looking back at the design. It called out to her, like it was the one.

“I think this is perfect. Are you okay with, um, tattooing over my scar?”

“Unless it's infected or you’re due for some surgery, I don't see a problem. If you want to emphasize the scar-- hang on, I'm going to reach over and point at the designs.”

And so she did. How a total stranger was managing to be this kind and so aware of her anxieties blew her away. But still, she drew her arms closer to her chest as she leaned across anyway.

“So, if you wanted to emphasize the scar, I can put it on the skull, and have a design around it to make it look like a crack.” She pointed at the cranium of the design, before sliding her finger across. “If you want to cover it, I can see if, depending on the size and depth, if we can hide it in the shading of the eyes, or in one of the flowerheads. It's part of the design, but looks more like a detail than an old wound. Colouring may be a bit of a pain, literally, but we can work something out. It's gonna look gorgeous.”

As she said the word gorgeous, Yang looked up at her.

 _She really is_.

Mentally, Blake curbstomped that thought. Not today, sapphic thoughts. Inappropriate and undeserving.

“You're pretty passionate about this, aren't you?” Blake tilted her head.

“Tattooing with scars is my favourite, and what I specialise in. Ruby is great with mathematical and complex designs, and our boy Ren is a savant with colours and flowers. Tattooing can be part of the healing process, and getting to help people make their first or last step in the process is amazing, to say the least.”

“How long have you been tattooing for?”

Yang snickered and lowered her voice. “Don't tell my dad, but about a decade. Started at 15 at shady clubs and stuff, and it just evolved from there. Hit a minor speed bump with you know,” she waggled her stump for emphasis, “but I eventually dealt with it and carried on. Opening the Rose Dragon with my sister is the best life decision I've made so far. Anyway, enough about me. Wanna talk about yourself for a bit or shall we talk about the design some more?”

“Um. I don't talk about myself. A lot.” Blake felt dangerously small in her chair compared to Yang.

Yang nodded sagely, almost a spitting image of the same nod Ruby did to her the other day. Physically they didn’t resemble each other, but their mannerisms were similar.

“Well, theoretically, this whole design could be done in one sitting, with breaks obviously, but if you wanted to break it up into multiple sessions that's fine too. That being said, if we do it in one sitting, it'll probably take at least 4 or 5 hours.”

“With the design being on your stomach, you may flinch randomly, which is fine, but it'll slow me down a little. Just the nerves being little assholes, nothing to worry about. You may feel ticklish too, on top of a 'rubbed raw’ sensation. If you feel like it's more painful than it should be, or if I see your scar tissue reacting badly, we'll call it off and come up with a new game plan. Happy with everything so far?” Yang punctuated the sentence with a smile.

Blake nodded in response before looking down into her tea. “Um, thank you by the way. For the tea.”

“Hm? Don’t mention it, Blake.” Yang grinned at her as she took a swig of her own coffee. Her eyes were such a soft color, like flowers.

“I have to say,” Blake shifted in her seat, suddenly feeling very antsy. “I thought tattoo artists would be a lot more… _edgy?_ You’re really nice.”

“It’s all a ploy to get more business.” Yang responded in a mock evil villain type voice. “And to get all the cute girls.”

“Really? You’re just in it for the girls?” Blake found herself laughing.

“Oh almost _exclusively_.” Yang winked at her and both girls suddenly found their faces turning very red. “Er, sorry if that was too much.”

Blake paused for a moment, brushing some hair behind her ear and distinctly not making eye contact with Yang.

“It’s fine.” Was it?

“I’ll lay off, sorry.”

An awkward moment passed. Yang took a comically loud sip of her coffee before breaking the ice. “Yeah, people assume we’re edgy and scary and like, I understand to a degree? Because there’s gangs around here and nasty people with horrendous tattoos but like, tattooing at its core is just permanent body art. No more, no less. It’s what you do with it that matters.”

Yang looked at the window and traced the pathways of cars with her eyes before popping a devious smile. “And between you and me, I _do_ get some stupid requests. Never get a date’s name tattooed. That’s some sage advice from me to you right there.”

“Are you speaking from experience?”

“Not on _my_ body. The stupidest tattoo I have is a very badly drawn picture of Ruby on my leg because I lost a bet. This guy wanted his third wife’s name on his arm and I declined on like, moral grounds, because the last two were already badly crossed out.”

“Um, a ‘very badly drawn picture of Ruby’?” Blake punctuated each word carefully.

Yang leaned forward very slightly with a childish, playful smile.

“Wanna see it?”

 

\-----

 

“Welcome- oh, Ms. Amitola.”

Weiss looked up from the front desk at a customer she’d had around 3 months ago; a young woman, freckled, with her hair tied back in a ponytail and some of the most gorgeous-, er, expressive- no that wasn’t it either, _large_ eyes Weiss had seen. There. That was good.

“Your eyebrow piercing seems to be healing nicely.” Weiss prompted. She ignored the quiet snickering from Ruby behind her.

“Oh, yeah, it’s healing really well. You did a great job.” Ilia’s eyes darted about somewhat nervously, struggling to make eye contact with Weiss.

“Oh! Well, thank you.” Weiss felt taller upon receiving the compliment, which was significant considering how much Nora teased her about her height.

The only sound afterwards was an awkward choke of a cough from Ren.

“Um, my friend came in here the other day. I know you’re probably not supposed to talk about customers, but I just wanted to make sure she was okay.” Ilia asked her question sheepishly.

“Um…” Weiss looked over at Ruby as though looking for permission. It was the boss’s call after all, even though Weiss thought she was childish, crass, and-

“It’s fine! It wasn’t Blake was it?” Ruby slid over on her chair.

“Yeah. How’d you know?” Ilia’s eyes brightened a bit.

“My flawless intuition!” Ruby puffed out her chest like a bird showing off, followed by a guttural groan from Weiss.

“We got her set up with Yang, my sister. I think they’re meeting about the details at that nearby coffee shop. She’s all scheduled in.”

“Wait, you mean Scarletina’s a couple blocks from here?” A thumb gesture behind her.

“Yeah!” Ruby placed a finger under her chin before her eyes brightened. “Actually maybe I should go make a quick coffee run for us-”

“Thanks!” Ilia tightened her puffy jacket around her and left the store almost as quickly as she came.

Weiss managed to choke out a small ‘wait’, but it was so quiet the cheesy bell on the door drowned it out. Unsaid was the ‘hi I’d love to take you out on a date because I think you’re pretty and smell like lilacs’.

Ruby rolled over next to her slowly and very deliberately.

“Well that went well!”

“Shut up Ruby.”

“ _Never.”_

Ruby smugly rolled back over to her table where her sketchbook lay open.

“Besides, after all the shit you gave Yang about Blake, it’s only fair I get to tease you about this.”

“T-this is different!”

Weiss could literally feel Ren rolling his eyes behind her.

“Sure it is.” He sighed as he continued quietly sketching a little page of brightly colored marigolds.

“She’s not a customer anymore so it’s fine!” Weiss huffed. “Besides I never said I wanted to ask her out!”

“Weiss, if you actually ask her out then I’ll let you pierce my-“

“RUBY.”

Weiss slammed herself back down in the front desk chair, angrily rubbing her tongue piercing against the top of her mouth. Her brow felt heavy from frowning so much.

Ruby got up out of her chair and walked up to Weiss, crouching down next to her and gently placing her hand on her friend’s shoulder.

“Weiss, I hope I’m not being out of line or anything, but…” Ruby gave her shoulder a small squeeze. “‘I know you’re nervous about asking a girl out but-“

“I don’t want to talk about it right now Ruby.” Weiss’s tone wasn’t harsh, or even angry.

Just sad. Loaded with too many memories for one afternoon.

Ruby smiled kindly at her friend and gave her the hug she knew she needed. Weiss hugged her back tightly before pulling away, the door chiming to let everyone know they had a new customer.

 

\-----

 

“It wasn’t _that_ bad.” Blake narrowed her eyes as she teased Yang. Certainly the little Ruby tattoo had been… subpar, but according to Sun he had something _even worse_ right above his-

“Yes but I have discerning tastes!” Yang exclaimed, throwing back her head in a mockery of drama. “Besides you know, now girls have to look at that if we ever uh-”

“I don’t think they _have_ to look at it Yang.”

_Especially when there’s the rest of you to look at._

Blake didn’t say that part out loud.

“It keeps me up at night Blake, truly.” Yang crossed her arm across her chest and nodded like a monk.

Blake looked down into her nearly empty cup of tea and saw a smile plastered across her face in her own reflection. She’d been having a lot more fun with Yang than she’d anticipated, which is to say, a _lot._ Her eyes drifted over to the clock on the wall, which indicated that over an hour had already passed.

“Oh, it’s been that long already?” Yang seemingly read her mind. “Don’t let me keep you if you’re busy Blake.”

Blake gnawed at her lower lip thoughtfully, weighing options.

“I didn't have anything planned but I suppose-”

“Hey Blake! I didn’t know you’d be here.”

Blake whipped around, startled and on edge, shoulders relaxing once she realized it was just her friend Ilia. “Uh, hi Ilia.”

“Oh hey! I recognize you from the shop.” Yang butted in cheerfully.  

Ilia eyed Yang carefully, perhaps viewing a threat; if she recognized Yang herself she didn’t make any mention of it.

“Sorry, who are you again? I think I remember you.”

“Yang, from the Rose Dragon. You got pierced by Weiss I think.” Yang held out her hand to Ilia who took it rather tentatively. “Lookin’ good!”

“Yang is my tattoo artist.” Blake explained with a gesture. “S-she’s done a really great job so far.”

Ilia didn’t miss the faint blush that momentarily graced Yang’s face, her eyes narrowing imperceptibly at the sight. Blake awkwardly tucked a lock of hair behind her ear. There was a strange atmosphere between Yang and Ilia and Blake lacked the words to describe it.

“That’s great!” Ilia finally responded. “I’m really glad it’s going well for you Blake.”

“I can waltz back over to the shop if you two want to hang out together.” Yang offered. Blake thought about how she wouldn’t mind if they spent a bit more time together. But Ilia was her friend and Yang was a tattoo artist she’d almost literally just met; she owed it to Ilia to catch up with her instead.

“Blake?” Ilia tilted her head as she waited for a response.

“S-sounds good.” Blake sputtered out, immediately feeling like an awkward idiot. Yang smiled sweetly and offered her chair to Ilia instead.

“Text me if there’s even a little hesitation okay? I’m gonna make sure I get this right Blake.” She held her sketchbook under her arm, eyes full of understanding and kindness.

“Of course. Thank you, Yang.” Blake meant it too. She wanted to append it with ‘thank you for understanding my anxiety, thank you for treating me like a normal person’, but the words were dead on arrival.

“Nice to see you again by the way Ilia! Come back if you need another piercing.”

“Nice to see you again too Yang.”

Yang punctuated with a wink and like a passing ray of sunshine was gone.

“She’s certainly flashy huh?” Ilia placed a hand on Blake’s shoulder as she watched Yang walking away from the shop, a number of people quickly glancing down at her arm and then glancing back up, as though they were ashamed they had looked at it.

“...yeah.” Blake somehow knew flashy wasn’t the right term for Yang but her mind was coming up blank on a different answer. “Do you want something to drink Ilia? My treat today.”

Her friend blushed and smiled, nodding in assent. “I think I’ll have to take you up on that.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey if you read this far you're a star
> 
> we were going to release this earlier, but we're struggling to find a balance between actually releasing content and not rushing out some horseshit chapters that are just pure wank. hopefully y'all liked this!
> 
> i think it was mentioned in The Path to Vengeance but we're alternating the tattoo au and demon au updates and we're gonna try to keep at it
> 
> there's spotify playlists for Bumbleby and this fic that i made -- they're Bumbleby and The Rose Dragon respectively, under the handle asarivanguard. check em out if you want to listen to some bangers
> 
> i'm not active on tunglr anymore because life is hectic, but you can find pokeh at pokehturtle.tumblr.com and i'm the bastard usually responding to comments on here
> 
> skate fast eat ass
> 
> Pokeh: HEY HI PLEASE ENJOY


	3. Linework

“Blake! There you are. It’s been too long!”

“It’s been like a week Sun.” She punctuated her sentence by rolling her eyes.

“I know. I said too long.”

Sun prompted Blake for a high five which she eventually acquiesced to, much to his delight.

They were meeting for lunch, catching up really, at one of the very few seafood joints in the city; it was landlocked, unlike the island town Blake had grown up in.

Sun had ordered a mess of deep fried sea critters, mouth and eyes watering as he looked at plate piled high with crispy calamari, catfish, and hush puppies. Certainly a heart attack on a plate, but more than worth every clogged artery.

Blake was trying to wrap her mouth around a borderline obnoxiously huge tuna po-boy when Sun decided to start badgering her with questions.

“So you’re getting your first tattoo tomorrow right? Sure you don’t want anyone there?” He had a bit of tartar sauce stuck on his cheek as he spoke, but Blake didn’t really have the heart to tell him.

That, and she thought it was funny.

“I’m pretty nervous,” Blake have in, “but I’d rather be alone I think.”

Sun smiled a dorky little grin, though there was still concern in his eyes. “Well as long as you’re sure. How’s your artist? Pretty chill?”

“Oh um. Yeah. I really like her.” She didn’t tell Sun that she felt like she could let her guard down around Yang, or how pretty Yang was, or how the design was everything she wanted it to be,  _or_ how she just wanted to get coffee with her again sometime.

“It’ll be alright Sun.” She gave him a knowing look and he flushed a bit, having made him.

“I know. Can’t help but be a bit worried though y’know?” He gnawed thoughtfully on some deep fried squid.

“Um, there is something you could help me with though.” Blake blushed and started rapidly fidgeting with her fingers. “... I need to send her a picture of the scar.”

“Wait, she hasn’t seen it yet?”

“Well, she was supposed to, and then Ilia showed up and she had to go and-“

“Look, say no more. I’ll always help you out with anything. We’re friends!”

Blake breathed in relief. She knew she could trust Sun. They finished their meals catching up about more mundane things; Sun had started seeing some guy named Neptune, though it was, as Sun had put it, still on the down low. She was happy for him though. It’d been a while since he’d gone out with anyone, and the last person he’d asked out was Blake herself, which hadn’t turned out super well for him. They were still close though, thankfully.

The two went back to her home and up to her room, where she handed Sun her phone.

“You sure Blake?” Sun double checked. “I know you said it’s fine but… it’s okay if it isn’t.”

“I’d rather just get it over with. Are you ready?” Blake gripped the hem of her shirt tightly.

Sun nodded, steadying the phone in his hands. Blake lifted up her shirt, just enough to show her scar, red and pink against her pale skin, fully healed, at least physically. The second she heard the shutter sound come from her phone she pulled her shirt back down, focused on the ground, and wiped the smallest tear away from her eye.

“It doesn’t still hurt does it?” Sun kept his distance, though his voice indicated he wished he could give Blake a giant bear hug. He knew she valued her personal space.

“Not really.” Blake lifted her shoulders and struggled bringing them back down, anxiety making it hard to control her own muscles. The tension was so much it almost hurt.

“Well uh, I can go now if you want. Or we can do something fun, take your mind off stuff for a while.” He handed her back her phone.

“That sounds nice, Sun.” Blake couldn’t help but feel she didn’t deserve to have such good friends, even though they would insist otherwise. She was incredibly nervous about her appointment and any sort of distraction would be more than welcome.

“Let’s go get ice cream then!”

“Sun, it’s like, literally freezing outside.”

“That’s the best time to eat it! It doesn’t melt!”

“We just ate!”

“Dessert!”

 

\------

 

Weiss got to the shop early that day. Really early. It was empty and dark, but the sign out front bathed some of the store in a comforting neon. She wasn’t entirely sure what possessed her to get to the shop at 5:30am. Some part of her felt more comfortable at the shop than anywhere else; she’d found safety and acceptance in an unlikely place. Lonely nights at her apartment allowed her thoughts to wander, to spiral out of control; things seemed more grounded at the Rose Dragon.

There was a sticky note Nora had left on the counter that had a poorly drawn picture of her making a kissy face at Ren. Or at least that’s what Weiss thought it was. Sometimes Nora would leave little ‘presents’ from the night before, and it wasn’t always clear exactly what they were supposed to be.

She started going through the motions of opening, mentally crossing things off the checklist even though the store wouldn’t be open for hours yet.

Weiss pulled out the front desk chair and sat down with a laboured sigh. She pulled out her phone and meandered about on it. Checked her email. Played a game. Checked her email. Looked at old photos she’d taken of a drunken Yang nearly getting into a fistfight with the holier than thou preachers across the street.

Checked her email- oh.

She didn’t want to start the day being full of regret and shame, but it was the only reaction she had to seeing Winter’s name in her inbox. Her finger hovered over the email, thumb twitching violently. One deep breath later and she had deleted it.

It’s been two years, eight months, and four days exactly since Weiss last spoke to her family.

That fact tore her up inside but she couldn’t talk to them. She wasn’t ready. She might not ever be.

_Breathe, Weiss. Breathe._

The fearful thought of her father’s fist hanging above her winded her stomach into knot, impossible to undo. But it was getting looser.

She had people that really cared about her now, that truly, truly did. Ruby, Yang, Ren, and even Nora, were her family now.

Yang was the first one to arrive hours later, at 8:30 with a giant cup of coffee in her hand and an armful of cloth and poles awkwardly situated between her prosthetic and her torso. Judging by the look on her face, she hadn’t expected anyone else to be there; the shop didn’t even open until 11 normally.

“Weiss? Jesus, you’re here early. I would’ve gotten you a coffee too if I’d known you’d be here.”

“Don’t swear too much Yang.” Weiss responded with a comically flat tone. “The pastor next door will hear you.”

Yang rolled her eyes and went over to her table, setting her coffee down and immediately getting to work, unravelling all the equipment she’d been carrying.

“Plus,” Weiss looked at her, curious, “You’re the one who’s early. I know for a fact some days you wouldn’t get up until 1 if you could.”

“Okay guilty as charged,  _maybe_ , but today’s special!”

“Seems like a pretty regular Thursday to me.” Weiss drolled, observing Yang’s movements. There was a certain urgency, an intensity that she didn’t normally see in the blond.

“Got a celebrity client we don’t know about?”

“Does Blake count?”

Weiss tossed her head back with a groan. “Really Yang?”

“Yes, ‘really Yang’.” Yang retorted. She glanced around the tattoo shop, double checking that it was indeed just the two of them.

“Weiss, can we not do this song and dance? We both know each other too well to be acting like high schoolers.”

Weiss shrank in her chair as she remembered every unfair accusation she’d lobbied at Yang the day Blake had visited. Ruby was right. She’d been a hypocrite, especially after the googly eyes she’d grown when Ilia had come in the other day.

“... I really like her Weiss.” Yang admitted, awkwardly picking at her prosthetic. “We had a lot of fun the other day when we got coffee and, I mean I still don’t know her that well yet but-”

“Yang. You’re right.” Yang wasn’t sure she’d ever heard that sentence before in her life. “I was in the wrong. I just don’t want it to affect her tattoo at all.”

Yang beamed and Weiss felt like she needed to put sunglasses on. She’d known her for a long time, but Yang’s smile was still striking and blinding every time she saw it. If not for extenuating circumstances, she would have told Coco to hire her at the modelling agency.

“It’s gonna be perfect.”

Weiss couldn't help but smile herself. “I know. You don’t do things half-assed Yang. Just promise me you’ll get her tattoo done before you ask her out.”

Yang dropped what she was doing and wrapped Weiss in a hug so mighty she pulled her right out of her seat, even with one arm. She’d never been so happy to be crushed by a friend.

The rest of the morning involved Yang setting up her station meticulously; she had an opaque curtain ready to go around her table so that no one would be able to see her tattooing Blake, as per the latter's request. Weiss only had a few scheduled piercings for that day; most people came in for walk ins anyways.

Yang tied her long hair up in a purple skull bandana; her favorite bandana, despite how stereotypical ‘punk’ it was. Blake was scheduled to come in around 11:30; bright and early as far as Yang was concerned. All her materials were ready to go, and her sketch of Blake’s tattoo sat in front of her on a re-purposed music stand.

She checked her phone and scanned the picture Blake had sent her.

_Blake:_

_Our meeting at Scarletina’s got cut short and I know you had wanted to see my scar before the date. I sent you a picture. I hope that’s okay._

_Yang:_

_Of course! It’s no trouble Blake, seriously_

Blake’s scar was on her lower abdomen, right above her pelvis. It was shaped like a cross and looked to Yang like an old puncture wound, though she was no doctor, and she didn’t plan on asking Blake how she got it.

The important thing was that she’d be able to tattoo over it fairly easy, cover it up like it had never been there, which is what Blake seemed to want.

 _It’s gonna hurt like a bitch though._ The area was already a pretty painful spot; scar tissue just made that worse. Yang was confident in her skills. Her fear was that Blake would leave once she realized how painful it was, or worse; blame her for it.

“Oh, hey guys!”

“Hey Ruby!” Her younger sister had entered the shop, holding a cup of coffee that had an alarmingly large number of modifiers marked on it. Yang always pitied the baristas that had to serve Ruby, though she’d at least taught her younger sister to always tip well.

“You’re here early Yang.”

“Oh, it’s because today’s  _special._ ” Weiss teased, no malice in her voice. Yang blushed as Ruby practically teleported in front of her, looking like she’d just won free cookies for life from her favorite bakery.

“Oh my  _god_ , is it Thursday already!?” Ruby hopped up and down on her feet, swinging her arms around wildly and almost dousing everyone in the shop in coffee.

“I-it’s not that big of a deal!” Yang’s defense was somewhat pathetic.

“Yes it  _is!”_ Ruby squealed. “Man, you guys would be so cute together! I mean your date went so well-”

“Ruby it wasn’t a date!” Yang felt attacked on all sides.  

“It might be later.” Weiss droned with a roll of the eyes, getting a gleeful snort from Ruby in return.

“Seriously though sis, I really hope it goes well today.” Yang smiled at her go-lucky younger sister. When Ruby believed in someone it made them feel like they could do anything.

“Heeeeellloooo everyone!”

Weiss, Ruby, and Yang all brought their hands up to cover their ears at the rather  _loud_ entrance of their handy-woman slash friend Nora Valkyrie, who had barged in through the front carrying an exhausted looking Ren in tow.

“Hello.” Ren’s voice was so quiet in compared to Nora’s Yang was convinced he was part church mouse, which by extension probably made Nora some incredibly loud, annoying type of dog.

Still, they all loved her just the same.

“Good morning Nora, Ren.” Weiss’s voice sounded more like a rope snapping than a jovial greeting.

“Nora what’s up!  _Gasp,_ there’s not something wrong with the store is there?” Ruby  _literally_ said the word gasp, which got the usual reaction from Weiss and a groan from Yang.

“Well, not really, but it’s supposed to get really,  _really_ cold tonight, like, negatives cold, so I’m gonna double check the pipes and get everything set up so that they don’t, yknow,”

She held her hands in front of her and mimed an epic explosion.

“Please do.” Weiss ran a hand deliberately over her face, recalling the last time the store flooded.  _It’s like an indoor water park!_ Ruby had insisted.

Nora cackled wickedly and gave Ren a quick peck on the cheek before the two of them went about their respective business. Ren’s desk was situated in between Ruby’s and Yang’s, and was by far the most well organized of the two. Ruby’s still had a half empty coffee cup on it from the day before, and Yang’s was covered by so many stickers and drawings it was hard to tell where anything was.

“It looks fantastic Yang.” Ren eyed the drawing on the music stand after setting his backpack down at his table. “Really great job on the lilies.”

“Damn, that means a lot coming from you, Ren.”

“What, compliments from your sister mean nothing?” Ruby whined.

“See, you’re obligated to love me lil’ sis. Ren here can decide he hates either of us any day.”

“Why would I do that- oh, you’re making a joke.”

The rest of opening went by without a hitch. Ruby very loudly announced it when she finally plugged in the old fashioned open sign and unlocked the front doors. Some college kids came in and all gathered around in a display of friendly masochism as they watched their friend get his nose pierced.

It was funny enough, but Yang’s eyes were glued to the clock on her phone, waiting till Blake came in for her appointment, which, at 11:30 on the dot, she was there for.

“Blake, hi!” Ruby cheerfully greeted her as she entered the parlor.

“Hey Ruby.” Blake seemed mildly off put by Ruby’s incredible energy, but a smile graced lips when she made eye contact with Yang. The artist’s heart fluttered like a roomful of butterflies.

Weiss cut in and handed Blake some final paperwork to fill out as Yang made her way over to greet her. Her customer looked good even in the simple outfit she was wearing: a regular black t-shirt under her jacket, and simple old work pants with boots. Yang had told her to wear something she wasn’t too attached to, just in case ink and blood got on it. Blake had paled at little bit at the mention of the blood, not that Yang blamed her.

“Nervous?” Yang took a seat next to Blake on the couch she’d plopped down on.

“If I say yes you won’t laugh?” Blake was visibly anxious and she flushed in embarrassment, brushing her silky hair out of her face.

“Of course not!” Yang reassured her. “Everyone’s nervous for their first tattoo.”

“Were you?” Blake seemed to be calming down a bit as she mindlessly signed the paperwork. It was mostly standard liability stuff; legalease that they would hopefully never have to actually use.

“Well I was 16 and  _slightly_ intoxicated so.” She chuckled awkwardly with a shameful shake of her head. It wasn’t exactly her proudest moment, but she figured being honest and playful would help Blake relax.

“Slightly, huh?” Blake narrowed her eyes with a knowing grin; they were all 16 once, and they certainly all had done stupid shit.

“I’m a picture of temperance, Blake.” Yang crossed her heart with her fingers. “Here, I’ll hand that over to Weiss. You can go ahead back over to my table behind the curtain; feel free to leave your jacket and stuff over there too.”

Blake nodded and walked over to Yang’s work space, sheepishly sitting down on the elaborate looking chair hidden behind the curtain. Yang always thought the chairs always resembled the ones at dentist’s offices; luckily Blake was getting a tattoo, not a tooth pulled.

“We all set Weiss?” Yang gingerly placed the paper work on the front desk.

“Just let me look it over real quick.” Weiss put down the book she’d been reading in her spare time and skimmed through the sheets, eyes darting exactly to where every signature was required to make sure the I’s were dotted and T’s crossed.

Satisfied, Weiss looked up at Yang and gave her her best wink. “Break a leg, Yang.”

“I mean I’m already down an arm-“

“Shut it! I’m trying to be supportive!”

Ruby laughed, Ren rocked back in his chair, exasperated, and Yang could feel a pair of amber eyes focused on her from afar, curious as to what the commotion was about.

“Just giving you shit, ice queen.”

Weiss groaned in a guttural tone before turning her attention to a fresh faced customer who had just entered. Yang breathed in deep and headed back to her station.

“So, I always use new, sterilized needles; never had any infections here and I’m gonna keep it that way. There’s a bunch of different kinds for different sorts of work.” Yang rummaged through her gear, showing Blake some of the needles are wrapped up in plastic still.

Blake hadn’t asked, but Yang enjoyed telling customers about the nitty gritty in the process. Luckily for her, Blake seemed to be listening carefully, which certainly inflated her ego a bit.

“What’s that?” Blake asked, gesturing with her head towards some of Yang’s gear on the floor.

“Oh, that’s my pedal! Let’s me control all sorts of things. I got this one custom made by my sis actually; Ruby’s really good with electronics and stuff. Works like a dream.”

“What’s all the ink made out of?”

“Depends on the manufacturer. I like certain places better for certain colors, but it’s all perfectly safe so don’t you worry.”

Blake continued asked her all sorts of questions before Yang realized she was stalling.

“Blake,” She finally cut the other girl off after she started asking about every sticker stuck to Yang’s gearbox. “take a deep breath ok?”

Blake acquiesced, clearly embarrassed that her ruse had been made. “S-sorry, I just uh…”

“Answer me honestly okay? Do you still wanna do this? You can say no.”

The two were quiet, and the space between them felt heavy. Even the shop, despite the fact that it was plenty loud with blaring rock music and the thrumming of Ruby’s machinery felt silent.

“I do.” Blake was resolute. That was what Yang had needed to see.

“Alright then.” Yang nodded. “Can you lift your shirt up for me? I have to disinfect the area first. Go ahead and lay down on your back too.”

Blake nodded deliberately, laid down, and after several deep breaths, pulled her shirt up from the bottom to just underneath her breasts. Her scar looked just like it had in the picture; a cross shape, striking against her pale, smooth skin. She could hear Blake taking in timed breaths, slowly and out of rhythm with the song currently playing over the speakers.

Yang snapped on some black latex gloves and got the disinfectant ready. “It’s gonna be a bit cold okay?”

“It’s fine. You sound like you‘re about to give me a flu shot.” Blake chuckled awkwardly.

“Well, in a way I’m about to give you thousands of really tiny shots!” Yang carefully rubbed the area with disinfectant, hesitating to actually go over the scar itself until it was the last thing she had to do. She heard Blake breathe in sharply as she did so.

“Did you have to phrase it that way?”

“Probably not, but I better just double down at this point.”

Blake let out a meek laugh, probably more out of courtesy than anything else.

Yang responded with a laugh that was just as awkward.

“Right, uh, so the next thing I’m gonna do is put a sort of… stencil on you. That way I can ink directly over my sketch. It’s real simple, but I do need you to hold still for a second.”

Blake’s eyes drifted back as best they could towards the sketch Yang had propped up on the music stand, wistful, full of interest.

“Okay.” Blake responded simply.

Yang nodded after getting confirmation from Blake it was alright to continue.

She placed the print over Blake’s scar with the utmost care, and pressed carefully to make sure the sketch was fully transferred.

Satisfied, Yang tapped Blake gently on the shoulder. “This way you can check it out real quick too! If you’d like, I can walk to the mirror in the bathroom; that way no one will see except you.”

“Y-Yeah. I’d like that.” Blake hustled off the table and followed Yang quickly to the bathroom in the back, not wanting to be seen by anyone other than her artist.

The bathroom was small, just a single toilet. Someone had lit a lemon scented candle that was burning, gradually melting on a shelf. She was scared to touch the sketch that was stuck to her abdomen now, but her eyes were glued to it in the mirror.

It looked great. Really great; or, it would look great once Yang was done.

Yang was waiting for her patiently outside the door, wide, white smile on her face.

“Seal of approval?” She asked, leaning casually against the wall.

“Approved.” Blake ignored the ticklish feeling in her chest. Ilia and Sun would have given her shit for sure if they could see how she was acting around Yang.

“Let’s get started then.”

Blake followed Yang and laid back down on the chair-table-thing, keeping her shirt rolled up over the etching the whole time.

“Alright, you want me to tell you when I’m about to start or are you more one of those, ‘element’ of surprise people?” Yang chuckled with a crack of her knuckles.

“Um, a warning will be nice.”

“Alright.” Was all Yang said before the machinery hummed to life, beating like an insect, or a hummingbird. “3… 2… 1…”

Blake stored a breath in her chest as she felt the needle start to go over her skin. It was painful and  _weird,_ like someone peeling a bad sunburn off before it was ready. She could feel it around her scar; Yang was starting with the area around it first apparently.

“That’s good, keep breathing.” Yang said, her prosthetic holding her skin in place while the needle dug ink into her skin. The needle would stop and start as Yang laid down the line art with a steady hand, buzzing.

“It feels, uh,” Blake winced at a particularly painful jolt. “... super weird.”

“Well you’re already handling it better than most.” Yang laughed, getting more ink off her table. “I had this big burly guy come in once, wanted ‘Winchester’ written around the same area. Acted like he was gonna die.”

Blake tried to laugh but her stomach just felt too weird. Her lack of response didn’t seem to bother Yang. She watched Yang as best she could. Yang was focused; laser focused. Her lilac eyes were like that of a hawk, so precise, so beautiful. She was an artist hard at work.

 _Stop thinking that Blake._ She chided her own, currently unwanted, gay thoughts.

It was quiet for a while. Multiple songs came and went; Yang gently sang along to a few of them, which was pretty hilarious considering how aggressive the music was. The door would open and close every once in a while, either customers or the other employees coming and going. She could hear the other artists tattooing people as well on and off.

“Yaaaaang!” Blake had the absolute shit scared out of her.

“What’s up Nora?” Yang didn’t stop even as she was talking to whoever was behind the curtain.

“Coffee time! Whatcha want girl scout!”

“Oh uh, one sec Blake.” Yang stopped momentarily. “Honestly, just a small coffee for me. Already had some this morning. Blake you want anything? On us.”

“Um. Some black tea please?” Blake said sheepishly.

“You got it!” Nora hopped away from behind the screen.

“Our handywoman and local second coming of Thor.” Yang explained.

“Ah.”

“She can be uh. A bit of a handful.”

“You don’t say?"

Yang snickered and Blake noted how much she liked the sound.

“Okay Blake, I’m gonna start going over the scar itself; it’s probably gonna hurt a bit more okay? I’ll move quickly.”

Blake swallowed. She knew this part was coming, but she certainly wasn’t looking forward to it.

The needles started buzzing and vibrating and she closed her eyes as she felt Yang’s cold prosthetic moving her skin into place and the warmth from her other hand coming close towards her scar.

 

\-----

 

 _Blake couldn’t see anything but a blurred, watercolor mess of red and black, like the sky was on fire. In a way it was. She pushed herself up from the ground, barely, and nearly slipped in a massive puddle of leaking oil. There was someone lying on the ground and god their_ arm  _-_

_She vomited and it mixed in with a slurry of blood and crushed steel. The remains of Adam’s car were scattered around her. She’d been thrown from the wreckage when they crashed, when they hit that person, when the car then swerved and smashed into the building._

_“Blake!” Her own name cut through the ringing in her ears._

_No. No no no. Blake turned around and saw him, blood running down his face, clothing ripped, coughing on the smoke from the flaming car. He looked like he was rising up from hell, clawing out of some sort of devilish maw._

_“Blake where are you!?”_

_She wasn’t sure where they were but that didn’t matter much. She had to run away, run to anywhere other than here. Blake bolted, felt searing pain in her muscles, tried to see through her blurred vision. Her breath came in waves full of smoke and every inhale felt like choking on glass. She placed a hand over her chest; maybe her ribs were broken. Probably broken._

_“Don’t you run from me! Don’t you run Blake!” His voice was dripping and vile, full of venom and malice. She couldn’t let him catch her. He’d kill her and she’d never see her friends or family again._

_Game over._

 

\-----

 

“No!” Blake grabbed Yang’s arm and held it in a deathly strong vice, like if she let go she’d just drop dead. “S-stay away from me!”

“B-Blake!?” Yang yanked her arm away and stared wide eyed. Blake met her gaze, eyes shaking, glistening, brow twitching and convulsing. “Blake what’s wrong?”

“I-I, um,” She was shaking violently and could hear the tell tale sound of Ruby rolling over on her chair to see what was going on. She’d just  _screamed_ in a tattoo parlor like a psycho. Yang just stared at her, hand outstretched like she was trying to touch Blake but she hesitated. Blake bit the bottom of her lip violently as Yang continued to stare at her, looking hurt, looking vulnerable, confused.

“I-I have to go.” There was a back door she’d seen before by the bathroom that hopefully wouldn’t be locked. She couldn’t stand the thought of facing anyone else in the shop.

“Blake wait!”

She bolted. At least this time her ribs weren’t broken. She threw her whole body weight against the door and forced it open, regardless of whether it was locked or not.

Yang just stared blankly at the exit. She didn’t even notice when Weiss and Ruby ran up right next to her.

“What the hell happened?!” Weiss was a weird combination of anger and concern. Ruby certainly looked worried.

“Um. I don’t know. I was just-”

“Yang, go check on her.” Ruby glanced down at the back exit.

“Y-you’re right.” She didn’t need more prompting. She ripped her latex gloves off and took off after Blake.

“Are you sure that’s smart?” Weiss huffed, gazing down at Ruby who was still sitting in her chair.

“Well, someone has to and I’m in charge.” Ruby huffed indignantly. 

 

\-----

 

“Blake?! Blake!” Yang shouldered open the door, a wall of frigid air greeting her as she stepped out into the cold. The wind didn’t bother her, despite it being  _absolutely_ freezing. Blake herself had forgotten her coat and scarf, not to mention her freshly rubbed raw stomach was still exposed.

Her ears immediately locked on to the sound of someone weeping, muffled slightly, like they were crying into their arm. She rounded through the alleyway and found Blake sobbing into the palms of her hands, body shaking. It wasn’t clear if it was because of the cold or not.

“Blake?” Yang kept her voice soft, like a prayer.

The sniffling stopped for a brief moment as Blake looked up towards Yang. As soon as they made eye contact, Blake looked ashamed. Ashamed for freaking out, ashamed for losing control, ashamed for drawing attention to herself.

“Blake, can I sit down next to you?” Yang approached her with as much composure as she could manage, hand held out in front of her as though it would somehow help Blake through her sudden bout of hysteria.

Blake made a sorrowful noise, and nodded her head, refraining from looking Yang in the eye again. Yang made sure to leave a few inches between the two of them as she sat down on the cold pavement. It was dirty and grimy, and she could feel half melted snow and ice soaking into her pants and shoes.

“So, um…” Blake’s body was rigid, tense, and Yang could tell that she was trying to stop herself crying anymore.

“It’s uh, pretty fucking cold huh?” Yang couldn’t think of anything better to say. Their breaths came out in little puffs of smoke. “Glad I didn’t wear my leather pants.”

Blake didn’t respond unless the shiver that ran through her body was supposed to be communicative.

“Why don’t we go back inside? We’re both gonna get sick if we stay out here too long.” She wanted to reach out and hold Blake, give her a hug, warm her up, but she knew better than to invade her personal space right now.

“You must think I’m insane.” Blake finally responded with a weak laugh, obviously beating herself up over what happened.

“I’m no stranger to fear or panic.” Yang unconsciously rubbed her scarred flesh, where it met plastic and metal. “I didn’t hurt you did I? You can tell me if it’s something I did.”

“I- no you didn’t do anything wrong I just-” Blake ground her teeth together, jaw and expression tight. “I’m just… messed up.”

“I know that feeling.” Yang wasn’t ashamed to admit it. Maybe being honest would help Blake open up a bit, or at the very least, calm down.

Blake finally looked at her again, eyes raw from crying, looking for some solace in Yang’s admission.

She smiled back at her gently, wiggling her false arm slightly. “After my uh, accident, I was in a really rough place. I didn’t get better overnight, and I mean, I’d be lying if I said I was always at 100%.”

She tested the waters and move slightly closer to Blake, slowly, with great care. The other girl flinched slightly, but didn’t make any motion to get up and bolt.

“I get how overwhelming it can be. Like, I had my panic attacks, flashbacks, and everything PTSD related with losing a limb. I’m not expecting you to be perfect because you’re on the road to recovery, but you’re not alone, I can tell you that. Almost everyone in the shop understands. We’re here for every single one of our customers, especially the ones we have good vibes with.”

Yang stood up, rubbing some slush off her now damp behind and tried not think about how she might have just ruined her pants.

“Come back in. You’re safe.” She tried a smile. “And I can’t let you leave when it’s this cold, and with a partially done linejob of a tattoo.”

She extended her hand out to Blake.

Blake took several, drawn out breaths before taking Yang’s hand. It was absolutely frigid, like ice.

“I got you.”

“I’m sorry for causing a scene. I just-- I got terrified. I  _am_ terrified.” Blake realised they were still holding hands, and gently pulled away, bringing her arms close to her body in front of her. “God, you all must think I’m pathetic.”

Yang missed the-- well, it wasn’t  _warm_ , but she missed the presence of Blake’s hand. “Honestly? We’re more worried about you. We’re all judged on the day to day basis for the colour of our skin, our personality, the way we dress, the people we’re related to and the people we love. I ignore the people who stare at my prosthetic, but they still stare and judge because they can’t handle a little asymmetry. We couldn’t do the same to anyone else, because it  _sucks_.”

Blake looked at her expectantly, the smallest suggestion of a smile tugging at her lips.

“You don’t have to be afraid or ashamed Blake-” Yang was going to continue saying incredibly sweet things to Blake, but she cut herself off with a violent sneeze.

“Mother  _fucker-_ ” It ended up being completely worth it though, because the next thing she knew Blake was keeling over with laughter.

“Oh my  _god_ , you, you sound like an elephant!” Yang decided Blake’s laughter was  _definitely_ in her top ten list of favorite sounds.

“H-hey, what did I just say about judging people!” She blushed a lot more aggressively than she would have liked. Thank god they were alone.

Blake clutched her ribs, giggling more uncontrollably at Yang’s faux-offense.

“Son of a bitch! I was outside for  _five_ minutes.” Yang threw her hands up in the air, protesting whatever God and/or Goddess shat on her today. “I’m going inside, blasting my nose with something hot, and getting back to work. You ready to continue and finish your linework?”

“Yeah. I think I am.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> god that was a fucking huge chapter. releasing it was like holding in a huge shit and then finally embracing sweet freedom when you get to the bog. i feel like i can fly again
> 
> whenever i open the document for this work on my phone it has like a 1/3 chance of crashing the app bc the document is like. 36 pages long. what the fuck
> 
> anyway, something incredible happened in the comments and we got our first ever fanart -- i'm not sure how to embed images in chapter notes, so here's a link to a fucking fantastic drawing of blake's stomach tattoo: https://caniusproductions.tumblr.com/image/182674982171
> 
> big shout out to ButtonMasherFTW, and you can find more of her stuff here:  
> tumblr: cainusproductions.tumblr.com  
> dA: cainus.deviantart.com
> 
> so here's what's been cracking off while we've been writing: finally listened to Nevermore because there's a version released on youtube that's finally loud enough for my deaf ass. it's fuckin awesome and i can't stop listening to it. binged Gen:LOCK one night instead of finishing this chapter. it was fucking AMAZING oh my god, i recommend it for watching during the RWBY hiatus
> 
> it's amazing what you can achieve when you're supposed to be writing
> 
> thanks for reading!
> 
> Pokeh: hello sorry it took so long aaaaa

**Author's Note:**

> hey it's another fucking au by us. v6 has floored us and we wanna do more bumbleby content and we have. So Many Fucking AUs Send Help. and we keep starting civ 6 matches and shannon if you're reading this the fertility rites pantheon is MINE you thieving BITCH
> 
> have a fanfic spotify playlist, bung it on with some tattoo shop ambient noise and you have the Rose Dragon: https://open.spotify.com/user/asarivanguard/playlist/4J4HKbMgK13SeQRYnxPxvS?si=J1iw6vFpQ2uCLizFljfjFw
> 
> a note from pokehturtle's cat who helped us in the writing process:  
> szzzz9xx an addition from clarice  
> -p[000000000000q12]\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\=CAT I AM TRYING TO WORK
> 
> Pokeh: Hello! I’m back again. Wanted to say a quick thank you to everyone who was super nice on that one shot I posted a while back. I had to take a break from all this stuff for personal reasons for a long while but now I’m ready to get back in the g a m e


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